Love, The Boy You Hate
by EnglishNobleman
Summary: Dear Gryffindork... Dear Mudblood... Dear Girl Who Punched Me In Third Year... Dear Granger... Dear Hermione... ...Love, The Boy You Hate


_"Dear Gryffindork,"_

No. It was too broad. It could be mistaken for any Gryffindork.

He crossed it out.

_"Dear Mudblood,"_

There were a lot of Mudbloods at Hogwarts...

He scratched it out roughly until there were so many lines through it you couldn't make it out.

_"Dear Girl Who Punched Me In Third Year,"_

There was only one girl who had ever punched him, and only one girl who had ever punched him in his third year, but for some reason that heading just did not seem to fit with what he was trying to do.

He crossed it out, growing frustrated. He even growled.

_"Dear Granger,"_

He was absolutely, positively, a hundred percent certain that there was only one Granger in this school. No one would be able to mistake it for someone else.

He stared down at the mess of a parchment in front of him, scrutinizing the many crossed out headings he had already started.

Sighing, he pushed the parchment aside and reached into his bag. He pulled out a new, blank piece of parchment and set it down on the table in front of him.

He dipped his quill in his inkwell and bit his lip before he slowly wrote her name, memorizing each curve and tilt.

_"Dear Hermione,"_

So far, so good.

Nothing had exploded, which could only be seen as a positive thing.

He hesitated once more, leaning back in his chair and twirling his quill around in his pale fingers. The parchment stared up at him, naked; taunting him. He gripped his quill hard and stared at her name, his other hand playing with the ring around his finger.

What was he supposed to say?

He knew what he wanted to say, but how could he possibly say it all on one piece of parchment?

_She's a bookworm,_ he mused to himself- staring off across the room at the wall. _She wouldn't mind reading a few pages, if it came down to it._

Should he make himself known?

No. Absolutely not.

That would be suicide. Suicide on a whole new level.

He dipped his quill again, his ink having dried upon his quill tip, before he positioned it over his parchment.

_Come on. You can do this. It's just Granger._

His quill didn't move.

_Damn you!_ He cursed himself, throwing his quill down and pushing his fingers into his hair. He leaned away from the parchment again, pressing back into his chair and clasping his hands behind his head.

There was no good way to start this. Not that he could see anyway.

Everything he said in his head sounded stupid.

He stared at the parchment for a moment longer before he sighed and reached for his quill, picking it up and repositioning it over his parchment once more.

Slowly, he began to write.

_"You were wrong._

In Potions class today.

The question on the paper was 'What is the most important ingredient in the Strengthening Solution potion?' You put down Salamander Blood. Salamander Blood is useful, but it's not the right answer. Pomegranate juice is the most important ingredient. Without it, the Strengthening Solution would merely be a Swelling Solution.

I would have told you this in class, but you wouldn't have appreciated it. You might have hit me.

Though I suppose I'm used to you hating me by now. We never have gotten on, and I can't say I blame you. I haven't really been trying all that much to change that, either. I don't think I could, even if I wanted to. You hate me. A lot. I know you do.

It kind of sucks. That you hate me so much, I mean. We're pretty similar if you boil down to it.

I guess that's why I've been watching you lately.

Not in a creepy, stalker sort of way.

Really.

Not in that kind of way.

I wouldn't watch you like that.

That's just weird.

Although, Weasley watches you like that- like a creepy stalker.

You don't believe me, I can tell even before you've read this, but he does! He just sits and watches you in class.

It's kind of annoying... and distracting.

Though you, yourself, are pretty distracting to me as well.

I've never done this type of thing before. Written someone a letter that's taken me forever to finally start.

... I don't know why I would tell you that.

Forget I said that.

I'm nervous, I guess?

No. I don't get nervous, I forgot.

Even though I'm not talking to you, I can still see you in my mind, as though I were talking to you. But if I were to talk like this to your face, things wouldn't go over too well. Like I've said before, you hate me.

... You're really annoying, you know that?

I can't go one day without thinking about you. And yet you ignore me all day like I never even cross your mind!

I'm not good with being ignored.

... I'm not too good with being hated either. Especially by you.

I'm jealous of your friends.

That's stupid of me to say, for I shouldn't be, but I am.

Why is it they get to be friends with you and I can not even be graced with a nice conversation with you?

Because we live in a messed up world, that's why.

I saw you at the Quidditch match last Tuesday.

I don't think you noticed me then, either, even when I was flying around in the air.

You are, indeed, very annoying.

A big distraction.

I could barely keep my attention on the game at all.

It didn't matter anyway, I suppose.

You may never even read this.

I may become too much of a coward to ever give it to you, or slip it to you.

I just have to write it down. Write you down. You have become an obsession and it's not healthy for me.

I figured that if I wrote all of this down, you'll go away.

Your presence won't be so known to me.

I could actually focus on my work.

I won't nearly get hit by a bludger… I could have died, you know.

But you don't, obviously, because I know I barely cross your mind.

But if, by some miracle, you do read this, I just wanted to let you know that you're not all bad.

You're really smart- for one.

You know everything- or just about as much of 'everything' that someone can know.

You're extremely nice. Too nice sometimes. You know not everyone deserves such kindness, right?

You're stubborn, which is always a nice change from these flimsy back-boners we have at Hogwarts.

And no matter what, you've always got your chin up.

I admire you, Hermione Granger, I really do.

And though you may never know who it is that admires you, I just thought you should know that someone does.

I just thought you should know I think I might be falling for you.  


_I just thought you should know._

_Love,  
The boy you hate_

P.S. You looked really nice last year, during the Yule Ball.

... I just thought you should know."

He bit his lip and stared down at the letter before he made a quick second decision.

It wasn't like she was going to read it anyway.

_"P.P.S. You punched me in third year... and it was awesome."_


End file.
